


Too Much Alcohol, Too Many Grimps

by DarcyFarrow



Series: The Golds' Re-Wedding [4]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: A Monthly Rumbelling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-07-04
Packaged: 2018-11-23 11:04:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11401224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarcyFarrow/pseuds/DarcyFarrow
Summary: As the Golds' wedding party wraps up, Gideon and Regina have a heart-to-heart.  For #a-monthly-rumbelling, July prompt: “The only good part about being alone is that I don’t wake anyone up when I start screaming at night.”





	Too Much Alcohol, Too Many Grimps

Midnight: to the residents of the Land Without Magic, the witching hour. But Regina would have snickered, “Every hour is witching hour”—if she had been awake. 

Gideon moved slowly, tiredly through the remains of his parents’ re-wedding, picking up the trash by hand, rather than by magic, simply for the satisfaction of a job well done. Belle and Gold, driven by Mr. Dove, had bid goodbye and thanks to their guests and had taken off for their honeymoon thirty minutes ago on a six-month world cruise; the guests had drunk and danced a little longer before climbing into their vehicles and returning to town. 

Gid paused once to survey the scene he’d designed: the white tables draped with white linen cloths; the matching chairs, cockeyed, some even overturned; the little folding table that still held Henry’s speakers and battery-operated turntable; the gift table, bearing empty boxes, bows and pretty wrapping paper (Oh, how the guests had stewed over what to buy for the couple who had everything, including, finally, each other). Bottles, glasses, crumbs from sandwiches and a collapsed slice of cake, gold and white balloons and streamers tied to the pine trees: there would be hours of clean up to do in the morning, but Gid had hired a team of high schoolers for that. 

He was the one who’d introduced the Storybrooke Chamber of Commerce to the idea of creating apprenticeships for teenagers, and he’d talked his parents into setting the example, Mom with her Computer Tutors and Dad with his Maintenance Team for his rental properties. Having money meant you owed something to the community, Mom liked to say; having magic meant the same thing, Dad had learned. 

Dad was still learning. Gid couldn’t really blame him: he’d lived three hundred years as an outsider, bullied, ignored, despised, and after his power came to him, feared and avoided. By the time Mom had come into his life, he’d learned the trappings of society, but he’d never learned how to fit in. She was changing that, for both her husband and her son. Both men could be caught smiling a lot these days.

“Perfect day.” Gid said aloud, though there was no one to hear him. 

Except there was. A sharp cry cut the night and a dark form bolted upright from a chair that had been dragged into the shadows. Grabbing the only weapon available, a cake knife, Gid ran toward the disturbance, to find that one of his guests had apparently fallen asleep and had been left behind. He wondered why her family hadn’t missed her, until she staggered under a Japanese lantern and he could see who she was: Regina. Henry had driven Violet home, leaving his mom to make her own way back to town—normally no inconvenience for a woman with magic, except Regina had had too much to drink tonight and too much day today, and the combination of champagne and overexertion had left her exhausted, unsafe to fly.

“Hey,” Gid took her elbow and led her to the nearest table. He shoved a space clear for her and helped her to sit down. “Are you okay?”

“Just. . . .” She finished with a shrug, her head too muddled to find words. 

He brought her a glass of water and conjured a bottle of aspirin before sitting down beside her. She couldn’t manage to get the cap off the bottle, so he did that for her, pouring three pills into her open palm. She tossed them into her mouth and drank the water in gulps. “Thanks.” Holding her head in her hands, she pried her eyes open enough to glance around. “Party’s over, huh?”

“The last of them left about fifteen minutes ago.”

“It was a good one. Even Granny had a good time, and that’s going some, to impress her.”

“Yeah. Well, it probably helped that I hired her to cater.” They both chuckled. 

“Never saw your father smile so big before. Never saw him dance before; didn’t know he could. And I’ve known him”—she winced as she tried to count the years—”a long time.” 

“There’s still a lot I’m learning about him. Mom is easier; she calls herself an open book.” He paused, giving her time to nurse her headache while he considered his words. “Regina, is there something wrong? Maybe something I can help with?”

“Huh? No, of course not.”

“You were having a nightmare just now.”

She shrugged. “Too much alcohol, too many grimps.”

“I know Henry’s housesitting for Emma and Hook while they’re gone. Must be kind of. . .quiet for you.” 

“Gotta get used to it sometime. Henry will be off to college in two years.”

“I lived in a cage most of my life. I still have nightmares. PTSD, Archie calls it.”

“The Black Fairy was a total bitch. Worse than the Evil Queen, in some ways,” Regina snorted. “Sorry. I know she was your grandmother.”

“For a long time, the only parent I had. I’m still getting used to the freedom.” He shivered in the night air. “And the love. Mom’s a hugger; that’s still strange to me.”

“I can understand that. My childhood was devoid of affection. After I first adopted him, I had to remind myself to hug Henry. It gets easier, pretty quickly. And then the hugs come naturally.”

“I see that in my dad. Every now and then, it’s like he’s starved for hugs. Mom doesn’t mind.” 

“You’re lucky to have her.”

“We know. She says she’s the lucky one; she needs to be needed.” He found a half-filled bottle of champagne and poured himself a glass, sipping idly from it. “What I meant to say is, I know what it feels like, to go from being locked in to suddenly”—he waved his hand in the air. “Total freedom. Sometimes it’s too much. The cage feels safer.”

Regina nodded, as much as her headache would allow. She remembered being locked up in Snow’s prison; in a bizarre way, it had been sort of a gift, to be cared for, free from the need to make decisions. “The Evil Queen was a cage for me. Without her, finding my own way has been confusing. Frustrating.”

“Archie’s been treating me. He’s sympathetic, nonjudgmental, but he’s never been locked up. Sometimes I need to talk to someone who’s been there. My parents were both locked up for a long time. They can understand things Archie can’t.”

“You’re lucky to have them.”

“What I’m saying is, if you ever want to talk to someone who’s been there, give me a call.”

Regina snorted. “I suppose we could form a support group.”

He shot her a hard glare. “Yeah, like that. I know where that snarkiness is coming from. I see it in Dad sometimes. I see it in me.” He tossed back the last of the champagne and stood up. “Can you get back to town all right?”

She nodded, but they both knew that was a lie. He offered his hand. She took it, but instead of standing, she blurted, “The only good part about being alone is that I don’t wake anyone up when I start screaming at night.” 

He sat back down. “Tell me about your nightmare.”


End file.
